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The new receptionist arrives promptly at seven thirty the next morning.
Abigail Fullman is in her midforties, an avid rock climber, and looks like she could bench-press a pony. She breezes into the lobby, looks around, and immediately says, “This could be cleaner,” before I can even introduce myself.
She’s not quite what I expected after a rash of twentysomethings, but it’s a good thing. She’ll have the mettle I’ve been looking for.
After only the barest introduction to her desk and log in, she asks me for the janitor closet and fishes out a spray bottle and rags. “I’m sure the animals will piddle mercilessly, but it should start out cleaner than it is.” She immediately starts spraying the benches down.
When the first phone call comes, she plucks the portable receiver off the base and answers with a chirpy, “Daniels Vet Care, how may I help you?” while spraying the windows behind the chairs where the cleaning service tends to skimp.
Maria moves next to me, the day’s patient folders in her arms. “Look at that.”
“I know.”
“I’ll make sure she can check everyone in and file things correctly.” She plunks the pile on the desk.
“I’ll get the back ready for dental day.”
Maria nods, watching the woman clean. She doesn’t seem perfectly pleased, but I’m ecstatic. The new agency clearly has a better depth of personnel. This terrible period of revolving receptionists will end soon. I will be an absolute peach and give Abigail no cause to go.
But even the wordpeachbouncing into my head takes me back to the night of the wedding, the bridesmaids’ puffed skirts, and Ensley thrown over my shoulder.
This delivers an entire onslaught of visions of Ensley. In the shed. Talking up the sommelier. In my kitchen. On my bed.
There’s no need to rush my prep. I have a half hour before anyone will check in. I pivot on my heel, head to my office, and close the door.
Sasha scoots in with a flash of white fur, hopping onto my desk.
I don’t want to sit there feeling miserable, my head in my hands.
But I do.
And what’s worse, it’s for nothing. It’s not like I forced her to leave.
She’d been planning to go home all along.
When the last dental patient is in his kennel, twitching out of the anesthesia under Maria’s watchful eye, I check back in on the receptionist.
I pause at the end of the hallway to watch her work.
The lobby is clear at the moment, a lull after the dentals before the normal appointments begin. Abigail is on her hands and knees by the bench, scrubbing at the floor like there is no tomorrow.
She’s mumbling something. I come up on her quietly until I can make out her words.
“Disgusting, vile mutts. Pissing on the floor. Stupid cats, scratching the vinyl. Stupid animals reeking of shit and stink and licking their own butts. We should drown the lot of them.”
Heat rises in me, spewing forth like a science fair volcano. I have no control over the volume of my voice when I boom, “What the hell did you just say?”
Abigail jumps to her feet. “Dr.Daniels! Oh! I was cleaning up after the animals who were here earlier. Some nervous accidents, the poor things.”
The glass rattles as I say, “Drown the lot of them?”
Her jaw drops. “I mean, what I meant was. Oh.” She glances left and right.
“Why did you even take this position?”
“I. Uh. Oh. Haven’t had a placement in a while.” She clutches the floor cleaner bottle like a shield.
“Get. Out.”
